Doing Hard Time
by mew-tsubaki
Summary: Oneshot. SLASH. Terence screws up on the field. Marcus asks for payment. M for a reason! Strong M! *Available in Russian. *edited 6/4/12 for content -PM me for original version*


**Doing Hard Time**

A HariPo oneshot

by mew-tsubaki

Note: The _Harry Potter_ characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. This is my first Marcus/Terence, but I'm no stranger to slash, so please enjoy. However this is **M** for a reason! You've been warned!

_Expect ahead_: Angst, cursing, semi-graphic sex acts **or** reference to them. ***As of 6/4/12**, I have returned to this story to edit it for content so that it would not be removed from FFN. Please PM me if you are of appropriate age and want the non-edited version that was originally up on 3/14/11. Sorry for any disappointment. —mew! -.-*

Read, review, and enjoy the slashy goodness! X3

- ^-^3

_"…wanting is what _children_ do,_

_And taking is for ruined men…"_

—_Meg and Dia, "Dreams Like Oceans"_

"Good Merlin, you lot are playing like shit today!"

Marcus' words rang loud and clear across the Quidditch pitch, where the Slytherin team came to a halt. The Beaters exchanged a disgruntled look and Adrian Pucey tried to quiet his snort. It was not the first time Marcus Flint had barked at his team. On the contrary, Marcus probably should've started screaming at them from the beginning of practice. Today was an…"off" day for them.

"Bole, is your broom rammed up your arse? You're flying, not constipated! And Pucey, wipe that smirk off your face. You can't Chase as nearly well as you wank, it seems." Marcus glowered at the Chaser, daring him to retort as the team landed. Instead, the players went off one by one to the showers, not dawdling to hear anymore.

Terence Higgs landed last and began shuffling away—until Marcus finally moved from his spot and caught up with him.

"Are you _blind_, Higgs? You never even saw the Snitch," he provoked.

Terence often ignored Marcus' jabs—most of the team did. However, today was one of those rare times that Terence felt motivated to stand up for himself. "If you saw it, Flint, then _you_ should've caught it." He kept one step ahead, facing away from what was sure to be open fury on Marcus' face.

Marcus took the childish route and shoved Terence hard enough so he stumbled as they neared the locker room. "Fuck you, you little piss-ant. Just do your damned job when it matters."

"What, no lectures on teamwork?" Terence snorted. He pushed back his dirty blonde fringe, which had long ago plastered itself to his forehead, which was slick with sweat.

"We're not a bloody democracy," Marcus stated as his fist closed painfully around Terence's upper arm.

"Right, right." Terence stared into his eyes, pale green on gray. "We're a dictatorship, and you're the dictator—really, the first syllable."

There was an inadmissible twitch in the captain's jaw. "You want to talk dicks, Higgs? Then go put away the balls." He didn't remove his gaze until Terence moved. "_Now_."

Terence trudged back onto the pitch, reveling in the few moments he had to himself. He could try and dawdle—wrestling the Bludgers was always a chore, though they looked a lot nicer than Marcus Flint—but if he did, his captain would just come back out and the retribution would be ten times worse, at least. So he finished up in allowable time and returned to the lockers.

Marcus was leaning against the doorjamb when Terence came into view. "Finally, you little chit," the Chaser remarked as they headed for the showers. "It's a miracle we win anything with you on the team."

The Seeker scoffed as he stuffed his protective gear into his locker. "Face it, Flint, we suck." He shot the taller, bulkier boy a glare. "_Collectively_."

Marcus snorted, not really hiding his laughter. "Oh, I'm no pouf, though the boys and I have been wondering about our little lightweight…"

Terence sneered. "Light enough to _fly_, heavy enough to hold my liquor, Flint."

"Sure, sure…but none of that excuses your crap playing today," Marcus continued, his gray eyes turning stormy. He tossed his shirt into his own locker and leaned against its open door, his other hand resting on his belt.

"_Sorry_," Terence said halfheartedly. "Better luck next time."

Marcus remained quiet until Terence tried to walk by him, when Marcus grabbed his arm again—tough, but not as nasty as earlier. "No, Higgs, luck's with me this time."

For a half-beat, Terence stared back at him again, but then he closed his eyes when Marcus' fingers skittered along his arms and Marcus' breath tickled the skin along the side of his neck. Marcus ghosted his lips over those of the younger wizard before finally claiming that mouth, roughly. Marcus craned his neck and bent his back to overwhelm the slighter male, but Terence was not fighting back like the few times before when they'd…had time to themselves.

When the taller's hands drifted southward, Terence pulled away with a smirk, enjoying that his tease caused that growl in the back of Marcus' throat. But hey, they _were_ meant to be getting clean, after all.

Marcus followed him into the showers not long after, and Terence enjoyed teasing him a little more, delaying washing away the sweat and dirt and choosing instead to slowly run the water through his hair, darkening it so it was almost brown. He reached to turn up the heat of the water—

And Marcus couldn't delay, slamming into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at the flesh of his neck. Terence groaned as his cheek pressed against the tiled wall and Marcus leaned against him, the contact going beyond any earthly concept of heaven. "No. More. Fuck. Ups," Marcus panted.

The Seeker bit his bottom lip, close to drawing blood, as the older wizard's tongue lapped the water rivulets running down his back. Marcus dragged his tongue up over the bone of Terence's neck that stuck out as he bowed his head, and the Chaser kept the Seeker's mind busy and fuzzy when he drew two fingers down along his spine.

Terence blinked lazily in the pouring water. Marcus had never shown the real meaning of "punishment" to him before, and Terence suspected he'd never see it because Marcus' carnal desire was partially a _lover's_ desire. Marcus could never truly hurt Terence; he cared for him too much, though no one would ever know it.

Marcus grabbed his chin. He turned him and their mouths crashed into each other once again, reveling in an exchange of tongues. Terence moaned as Marcus' mouth moved against his; the blonde wanted a more intimate touch between them. "M…Marcus…," he breathed. "N-_Now_…!"

"Ah-ah-ah," Marcus said, licking Terence's lips before pulling away slightly. "You've got to beg for it."

Shit. Marcus _did_ know how to punish Terence after all.

The blonde fought another whimper as Marcus pressed his body against Terence's back, but he merely toyed with him. "So," Marcus breathed, "you called me a dick earlier…"

"Mmm…!"

"I saw _you_ earlier, Ter, and yeah, I think I've caught you…"

Terence leaned his forehead on the wall, wishing Marcus' embrace was not so scalding for him.

"But the difference between you and me?" He made Terence look at him. "When I see something I want, _I take it_."

With a sharp movement, _finally_ they were one.

They moved together, and soon enough Marcus was breathing as raggedly as Terence, whose voice was already as rough as sandpaper in spite of the moisture in the air. The steam was not as hot as the Chaser's skin on Terence's, but it certainly kept them going. Not long after, Marcus leaned around Terence, tired, his hands on the wall, and his breath coming in little pants.

"Marcus?" Terence breathed. Part of him wanted them to finish for their own personal delight; the other part warned him that if they returned to the castle any later, someone would come looking for them…which would be bad.

The Chaser said nothing, so Terence began actually washing himself, though Marcus briefly kissed him.

The two Slytherins finished up in the showers and dressed in the locker room, not mentioning—as they usually didn't—what had just transpired. Upon their exit of the Quidditch pitch, Terence couldn't resist one last word: "You know, Flint…"

"Hmm?" Marcus raised an eyebrow as they neared the castle. The hubbub of other students would soon overtake them.

Terence smirked, and his words were nearly gobbled up in the tumult following the dismissing bell. "I only _let_ you take what you want."

- ^-^3

**ARGH! Fuck it. B/ So much for never writing smut. XP But hey, this means I've written damn near everything, which—as a good friend informed me—shows that I've matured as both a person and a writer. Especially a writer, to keep resetting my comfort zone and then breaching it and resetting it again and again and again… On the one hand, I still managed to keep a storyline in there. ;]**

**Funnily enough, I have other Marcerence fics planned, though I don't _think_ any of them will be this graphic…but who knows? This one turned out a _LOT_ hotter than imagined so…yeah. -w- I just hope you enjoyed the love! XD**

**6/4/12: Funny. Editing this made me realize exactly how hawt this was…*lol*. But now there's nothing scarring in here. ;P Ah, well. I'm glad I still have the original version to read. -w-**

**Oh, and _don't_ tell me you didn't love the pun in the title. B)**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**

**-mew-tsubaki :D**


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